Just a Best Friend
by vanillageex
Summary: super mushy buttercup/butch fluff. there's a difference between flames and advice. -.-


_**A/N:**__ YOYOYO. So like, it's summer holidays for me now, and I'm like, uber bored, so, I decided to write down this mega mushy piece for Buttercup/Butch fans. It doesn't make sense really and the personalities the characters show don't really match Buttercup nor Butch but it sure as hell cured my writers' block. I guess I'll just have to write something better some other time to make up for it. Peacalata~_

"There's someone I want you to meet..." Butch beamed, grabbing my hand and pulling me through the crowd. I blushed instantly at his touch and I could feel the pink sticking out from under all that black. I straightened out my fringe with my free hand to cover my cheeks and eyes.

"This, is Jazzie."

I looked up, and the only colour I could see from under my hair was pink. Glittering, baby pink.

I blew the fringe away to look at her.

She.

Was.

Gorgeous.

Drop dead sexy. Hot. Beautiful. The whole lot. Her long, tanned legs stretched out for miles- and what made them longer were the dazzling pink high heels she had on. I had to admit my feet hurt justat the _sight _of the heels.

And her dress –oh her dress— coulda stuck her ass onto the ceiling and used her as a disco ball. It's like she fell into a giant pot of glue and thrown into a bag of glitter. The piece of material had more shades of pink that one could count.

Her face, though, was flawless. Two pretty dimples were drilled into either side of her cheeks; her lips were yet another shade of cotton candy pink. Her eyelashes- gosh. Do they have a limit of how long eyelashes can be? Her eyes were ocean blue, and sparkled in disinterest as they bore into me. How I wanted to grab her by her long flowing golden locks and send her to the moon.

That's right. She's a blonde.

Figures.

I felt Butch's warm hand leave mine and my heart sank at he reached in to hold Jazzie's manicured one.

"Jazzie, this is Buttercup, my bestie."

Jazzie smiled –wider, if possible- and let out a melodic sound that went like "Hi..."

I didn't hear it. I didn't want to.

I forced on a smile and nodded back.

"Buttercup, this is Jazzie, my girlfriend."

His girlfriend. His lover.

Jazzie twittered as he said that. I felt like choking her.

I felt like slicing her. Dicing her, mincing her.

I felt like collapsing in a heap of black tears as Butch leaned in and pecked her on the lips.

Jazzie gasped and pulled away –oh, the bitch- and instantly pulled out a pocket mirror (okay, where the HELL did she get that outta?)

"Butchie-boo!" she squealed frantically, eyeing her lips, "You smudged my lipstick!"

Butch's face went blank. "Huh?"

Jazzie pulled out a lipstick tube (WTF) and sighed. "I'll be right back, boo."

And she click-clacked towards the girls bathrooms.

Butch gave her another look before turning to me. "She does that sometimes."

I growled. "'Oh_ Butchie-boo! You've smudged my lipstick!' _"

"Aw, BC, she's a girl."

"Her skirt goes any shorter and she's gonna have four lips to gloss."

"I chose it."

I glared at him in disgust.

He chuckled.

"I can see from now you're not gonna get along."

A sinister smirk crept onto my face. "Noo," I replied smugly, "We'll get along just fine."

Insert image of a pink golden retriever flying to space.

It was nearly midnight. I watched, heartbroken and torn, as Butch and Jazzie danced and kissed and cuddled under the neon party lights. I sighed deeply and leant onto the wall behind me. I could still see Jazzie's golden locks flowing all over the place as Butch spun her.

I bit my lip in order to stop the tears from spilling.

That should've been me.

I don't know how long I sat there, being ignored and rejected, before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around, face to face with no one other than Butch. He grinned cheekily and sat next to me.

"Where's the pretty, happy face I know?

"Where's Jazzie?" I replied, my voice twice as bitter as it should be.

Butch pointed at his lips. "We had another emergency."

I rolled my eyes.

"Why aren't you out dancing?" Butch asked.

I huffed. "I don't wanna."

"I see..." I could practically hear his smirk. "You got nobody to dance with."

"Ugh..."

"_BC's all lonely..."_

"Get lost Butch."

"_She got nobody..."_

"I mean it."

"_To dance with..."_

I blinked. "You suck at rhymes."

"I know." His smirk twitched.

I looked away.

_Ka-thump. Ka-thump. Ka-thump..._

I felt something warm in my hand. I looked down.

..._Ka-THUMPA THUMPA THUMPA..._

Butch's fingers were intertwined with mine.

He leant in. "Care to dance?"

..._THUMPA THUMPA THUMPA.._

I didn't know what to say. Completely speechless. As much as I wanted to scream "YES", my mouth didn't open. Too late. He would just shrug and walk off to find the golden retriever.

Instead he smiled- not smirked, but smiled.

I finally found my voice.

..._THUMPA... THUMPA..._

"Won't Jazzie get pissed?"

Butch's smile faded, just a teensy weensy bit. "BC, just 'cause she's my girlfriend doesn't mean I'm forbidden to hang out with my other friends."

...THUMPATHUMPATHUMPA...

"D-Does that mean I'm just as important as Jazzie, then?"

The smile returned, only wider.

"No. You're more important."

...THUMPA... ...

Someone get me an asthma pump. I don't even have asthma.

"No..."

"Yes. Now get up." Butch stood up, his hand still in mine, and pulled me up.

But my legs were still jellylike from the shock –or maybe it was because I was half-dead at the moment- and I tripped.

He caught me.

And looked into my eyes.

The last thing I remember is him leaning in.

...

"Oh Butchie-booooo!"

Moment lost. Moment destroyed, gone forever.

I heard the click-clacks approaching, and they stopped abruptly.

Butch pulled away instantly, but my hand was still warm. He was still holding my hand.

"Butch—oh. I hope I didn't interrupt anything..."

Yes, bitch. You just ruined my whole night. Go die.

"No, Jazzie. Not at all. Butch?"

Butch's jaw twitched. He smiled weakly.

Jazzie smiled back.

I forced one on.

Words cannot describe the intensity of the situation and we all smiled awkwardly like that.

"So..."

It was Jazzie who broke the moment, but this time, I was glad she did. Maybe I would even thank her for it, maybe.

"Care to dance?"

Scratch that.

Butch shifted onto his other foot.

I eyed him, waiting eagerly for his reply.

But Jazzie –I'm gonna hang her- held his face with both hands and placed a loud, long kiss right on his mouth.

Butch.

Was.

Being.

Kissed.

By.

Another.

Girl.

And his hand was still in mine.

I pulled away.

He pushed her off.

"Uh, actually, no..."

My head snapped up. My heart lifted.

"I think I should leave you two together. To talk, get to know each other, ya know?"

Down went my heart. BAM! Just like that.

"After one last dance?" Jazzie whimpered.

Butch grimaced. "Later. Promise."

"Uh, no, actually, you two dance."

Both heads turned to me.

"I should be heading home now anyway..."

"It's not even midnight..." Butch sounded confused.

"I know. Um, bye."

And I ran –RAN- outta the building, without a single glance back.

"THIS IS FOR STEALING MY BEST FRIEND!"

Punch!

"THIS IS FOR KISSING HIM IN FRONT OF ME!"

Punch!

"ON THE LIPS!"

Punch!

"THIS IS FOR BEING A BITCH!"

Punch!

"AND!"

Punch!

"THIS!"

Punch!

"IS!"

Punch!

"FOR!"

Punch!

"MAKING! ME!"

Punch!

"LOOK!"

Punch!

"LIKE A FOOL!"

PUNCH! PUNCH! WHAM!

An eyebeam was all it took, and before I could stop it the punching bag exploded.

I sighed and sat down, peeling off my boxing gloves and burying my head in my hands.

My singlet was grey before I started.

Now it was black.

My hair was dripping wet from sweat.

The tights were too tight.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

I threw the boxing gloves across the shed.

And cried freely.

I don't know how long I sat there crying.

I must've fallen asleep, too, coz when I woke up, someone was holding me. The embrace was tight and warm. I could hear the person breathing softly. I knew that cologne from anywhere.

"Butch?"

The person stirred him and opened his eyes. And smiled.

"You're awake."

"What're you doing here?"

"I couldn't bear to watch you run off like that."

I glanced at the digital clock on the wall through blurred vision. The neon green numbers read 4:37. I left the party at midnight.

"Ain't it a bit too late for that?"

Butch smiled and trailed his fingers down my cheek.

"I left the party two minutes after you. I've been watching you since."

My heart stopped for the second time in the last six hours. He had watched me take my anger out on the punching bag. He had watched me break down. He had heard the things I said about his girlfriend. He shouldn't be here.

"To think I wanted to leave you two alone..." He chuckled. "You coulda ripped her head off."

"Pssh, what makes you say that?"

Butch eyed the smoking remains of the punching bag. "I figured it out."

I looked away. "Where were you watching me from the whole time?"

"I was at your window."

My eyes narrowed, and I pulled away from the embrace to glare at him. "What were you doing there? If you haven't noticed, I threw a whole tantrum over you _inside _the shed."

"Hey, hey!" Butch whimpered, "Even _I _don't have the guts to approach you when you're that pissed."

I was quiet. Butch's eyes went around me again.

"Now, if I recall correctly, you promised me a dance..."

"No I never!"

"I don't care." Butch pulled me to my feet. "What Butch wants, Butch gets."

He pressed the button of the radio beside us with his toe and it started to play a slow, smooth waltz.

Wait, radio? I didn't have a ra—

"You planned this!" I hissed accusingly, glaring at him.

"I'm too good," he smirked back, placing a hand on my waist and holding my hand in the other.

_You are..._

I didn't say anything, but simply followed him as he swayed to the music.

"Butch?"

"Hm?"

"Did you hear everything I said about Jazzie?"

"Every word."

"...and didn't you take offence?"

"It wasn't _me _you were talking about."

I resisted the urge to stop dancing. "Usually, the guy takes offence when someone talks bad about the girl he loves..."

Butch just chuckled and rested his chin on my head.

...

We danced.

And danced.

"Butch?"

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you leave the party?"

I knew the answer. I just wanted him to say it again.

"I came after you."

"You left Jazzie."

"I already told you, you mean more to me."

"I'm just your friend."

"That's right." Butch sighed and spun me around slowly. "Only my best friend..."

I was quiet.

"Uh, Butch?"

"Buttercup."

I looked at him.

"Ssh," he whispered.

I tilted my head, and he spun me around again.

We continued dancing.

"Buttercup?"

My eyes flew up to him.

The music was finishing.

He swooped me down, and we straightened up awfully close.

He grabbed my jaw with two fingers, and kissed me.

The music faded to an end.


End file.
